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AuthorSearch Results
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June 1, 2008 at 6:25 pm #921
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.Can you help me?.. I know you can.
What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.
Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.
Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.
You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.
Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.
What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl…
You can call me Ar’Meel.Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
A smile.
He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?June 1, 2008 at 12:55 am #919In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…
So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).
But then, all was so clear.
She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.— Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
— Well… err… I s’pose yes…
— Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
— Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
— Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.
When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.
Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
— Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
— Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.That would just be plain ridiculous.
…
So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison
June 1, 2008 at 12:10 am #918In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Phurt awoke, it was all dark and the soil was sodden and drenched and she was all wet to the tips of her fine black and white hair. Her pairs of eyes blinked as a bright lightening illuminated the whole place.
It looked like a forest, and though everything was silent now safe the sound of the cyclone, she could tell there was water not very far, and that place had all aspects of a body of land surrounded by waters.
Jumping on her fine legs, she took a look around, looking for any clue… where she could start to build her new nest. The little ones would be soon requiring her attention, and she would have to secure a perimeter for them and herself. Who knew what unknown danger was looming in this unknown place?
As if answering her silent question, a thunder rolled into the sky opening it in two in a flash of a thunderbolt, revealing somewhere in the less dense parts of the forest, a protruding tip of what seemed a huge white dome-like structure.
That would be perfect indeed…Coming from it, a shriek suddenly filled her ears, parts of which where so clearly in the ultrasounds part of the spectrum that she could hear it perfectly…
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-ah!
Glo was beaming.
— Aye, I think we got them all the nasty buggers!
— Good riddance! Good thing we took off our clothes, with all that nasty pomegranate juice everywhere
— Odd that those magpies gushed all bloody purple blood everywhere
— Odd indeed, now ye mention it, Sha
— What’s that “indeed” business all about now? Speaking like a bloddy ascended being are ye? Sharon said while readjusting her bra.
— Ascended beings my tits, never ‘ere when ye need them… Now, look at all this purple juice stains now, ruined all our beauty treatments…
— So what we gonna do of this UV lamp now? Sharon asked
— Odd lamp… Looks more a skull than a lamp to me, Sha…
— Yeah, they got bizarrest tastes ‘ere, with that clever doctor…
— Sure, that one obviously doesn’t know how to put lipstick properly, now you say it…
— UV skull-shaped lamps now… Next thing we know, we got magpies’ Bloody Margies
— Bloody Margies! Ya’re so smart Sha, ahahaha!
— I reckon we better keep it safe… Poor Vessie seems to have much on her plate with that sexy Italian… don’t want to make another bloddy blunder …
— Ya’re the brain, I reckon Sha. Let’s find Mavis and have some snacks… That honeystuff in the fridge was sooo addictiveMay 23, 2008 at 2:16 pm #1509In reply to: The Room of Requirements
Referrer list
An new (small) [but hopefully useful] feature added today, the Search for referrers link next to the comments links.
It should give you the comments list referring to the comment you are reading. Useful when you’re reading an old comment, and trying to find (more recent) information using that comment.
When you are in the search list, don’t forget you need to click on the highlighted excerpt, and not on the title link, to be sent directly to that comment.
On a side note, don’t hesitate to link previous comments to the ones you are writing, so that it creates more back-links…
May 20, 2008 at 12:04 pm #905In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— If you have an idea, then tell it quick, said Akita, this place gives me the creeps.
— Remember how Kay’s having this nice werewolf form in his shape-shifting bag of tricks?
— Yes, but he cannot really hold it for very long… Wouldn’t be easier if you just teleport us or something?
— Well, the thing is, yes, that would work for us, but that would take too long to teach you, not to say the parents. We can’t really count on their cooperation for now… and it’s perhaps better that way, because I’m not sure they would really believe they can do it anyway.
— So the real question is, Kay interrupted, how do we move quickly with two stoned weights?
— Exactly. My suggestion is that we combine our energies. I must say I’m quite fond of the werewolf outfit, it’s brawny and forces respect, and besides, you and Akita know how to operate it.
— I think I get your point. So how do we do?
— Just let Kay merge with you, and I’ll facilitate the anchoring, said Araili.Kay started to swirl around Akita in a swoosh of air, while Araili faded into the background to become a force-field around them, getting tighter and tighter, until all three were a ball of light and poofed back in the form of a twelve-feet tall impressive werelynx.
GRRRREAT, growled Akayli the beast. Let’s move on.
Baring his claws, he delicately tore off the mummifying silky threads to unwrap the two parents, and taking each of them under the hairy soft grey arms, sprung out of the nest to the forest in quick bounces.
May 19, 2008 at 1:33 am #900In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
START! said Tina.
Becky and Tina were doing a meditation together, and Becky decided to just write whatever popped into her head. She could always delete it afterwards, or edit it, she reasoned.
“Bagpush got out of the washtub”, Becky scribbled, “ And scooted down along the river line to the marks butty big one by the farm. Heavens above, fishly, what’s that brown thing on the water butt? Gawbsmacker said, don’t be talking like that, shekeltons in a hide to ho where and its first light, fair bright and hey ho the wash go. Abbon Ipswich, slaty flats of corncake, hey dee on the wash bucket, spittin in the hole hey down dooly. Margaret Apsworth laying on the white cotton cake spread, fair dooly down the one hooly. Ay and its a hey ho fair fooly down by the wash pooly, drum rolling in the har fool haley, down by the dash darnly. I said, hey ho the brown tooly, hoggin all the raw tooly, stewing in the far fooly for eight pence an hour. Said Mavis of the green sportwear, theres may flowers in the far horse hair, weel butter in the spar for tucker and muck down in the cow butter, said bree in the bird barny, a flying for the far fooly, well its knees up and out your dooly for the green hay beer fair. Its a fine night for a hooly in the row bottom in the far fooly, said mavis of the tom fooly, in the wash bucket down stairs. Once more, sell a nickel farthing, in the morning and in the darning, and say way more is in the star sign than a wash bucket down stairs.”
Good greif, exclaimed Becky, What was all that about?
What a load of twaddle, Becky, said Tina with a laugh.
Well you know what? It was kind of fun and refreshing to just write nonsense
I am sick of things MEANING something, Becky said, and then, warming to her subject:Lets have some good old fashioned MEANINGLESSNESS!
May 18, 2008 at 9:19 pm #898In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar
Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…
Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
Asiir, help me!The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.
HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.
She was truly riding her dragon,
, it was wondrous.
Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…
All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
… soon.May 17, 2008 at 8:11 pm #892In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Al took another pleased look at the animated stereographic pictures of himself he had been pleased to see in a special feature of Wisp. Oddly enough, he usually didn’t care to appear in such an outlet of officially held beliefs (now that most people were indeed living those previously-considered-odd concepts described issue after issue, it wasn’t like it was unofficial experiences any longer), but considering the amount of readers, he couldn’t have just turned down such a proposition of coverage.
After putting the magazine into the drawer, Al voiced the cyputer on. An expensive acquisition this cyputer, but Tina and him had agreed that this new artificial-consciousness device would be worth more than a try, and probably would help them with putting some order in the entangled threads of their story submissions. Well, of course Tina had been slightly reluctant at first, as she had felt her taxonomy skills being rebuked, but Al had tenderly reminded her with a wink that they would be soon more equipped than sooo last-century Becky Pooh.
Tina had bit her sensual glossy crimson lips when she almost spilled the beans about Becky’s expected kid who would probably teach her a trick or two on the new technology. Little did she know that Al knew a few things about this adventure …The suave voice of the cyputer asked if he cared to read the new additions on the story.
Oh good… Al rubbed his hand with expectation, and started to carefully listen to Tina’s last additions.Al had felt quite stimulated by what he had just had the cyputer read aloud with Tina’s sampled voice, and had to refrain himself from writing another long comment just after that. Essentially for Sam’s sake who would complain about Al being a pooper of big comments…
May 17, 2008 at 6:49 pm #891In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
His teeth had been nudging him for a few days, or maybe a few weeks actually. Last Wednesday, Yurick and him had a chat with their friends Michaela and Elias, and Yann told them about his questioning.
Now, he was wondering about what was the meaning of all that in his new understanding of his reality. He was having the impression that he was in a complex video game and that at the beginning he hadn’t been told about all the fun stuffs he could do in it. Many aspects of this video game were unraveling and still he was feeling cold feet about jumping ahead.
Yann was noticing that his teeth were nudging himself mainly when he was doing certain things, like judging himself, finding himself unworthy, trying to force himself in certain directions, or to force his body. It was like his body was an amazing communication device from him to himself. It was continuously giving him information, not only about his environment like temperature, smells, lights and images, but also about what would have been hidden like weather patterns, mass excitement or balance, mass tension or release…
Elias had told him and Yurick that their energy was constantly open to each other, in a continuous merging and exchanging process. They were quite aware of that now, and at the beginning of their relation it would have been overwhelming, but now it was really fulfilling in many ways. Even when they were not in physical proximity, they would be together and feel each other. But they were also more centered upon themselves and they were not as influenced by the mood of the other as they had beenthey had reached a more balanced relationship and were beginning to intensify the movement.
Yann had also begun to be aware of a humming tone, inaudible, but very present. It was humming under the veil of this reality and he had been told it was one of his language of communication. This was very intriguing and it was overlapping his interest in his body and his teeth, he was wondering about the effects of this humming tone on them.May 17, 2008 at 2:19 am #889In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Wow that had been bizarre! Veranassessee stood at the bathroom basin and splashed icy cold, reviving water on her face. She knew she’d had sex with Agent Gabriele … however the experience had a slightly surreal quality, not unlike a dream, details slipping elusively away from her as she tried to grasp hold of them. She giggled nervously as she dried her face with a towel. Did she really want to remember? She had just passed Agent Gabriele in the corridor and he had winked at her, saying he couldn’t wait to try the ‘reverse cleaning maid ‘ again. A sudden image came to mind and she saw her skin darken in the mirror as a hot wave of embarrassment flooded her. Good Grief! She thought guiltily of Mahiliki. She hoped the other island had not been too badly affected by cyclone Ycart, so far it seemed Tifikijoo had come off quite lightly.
Veranassessee had already checked on the guests, Jose Maria and Paquita were still in their room, Mavis was huddled under her bedding and informed her in a muffled voice that Sha and Glor had gone looking for her.
Well she’s not in her bloody room so where is she eh? Gloria and Sha were on the warpath, determined to get some answers from Veranassessee.
‘Ere, Sha! Bloody hell! Glor shook her head in disbelief.
What’s up Glor?
Bloody magpies … there are bloody magpies in ‘ere!
What! Nasty little buggers those magpies. Poke yer bloody eyes out if yer aint careful.
‘Ere what they up to eh? Bloody hopping all over that whats-a-ma-callit-doo-dacky machine.
They’ll be going for the shiny bits I reckon. They do that those magpies. ‘Ere we’d better stop them, might never get our bloody beauty treatments if they bugger that machine up.
May 14, 2008 at 10:26 am #878In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Old Narani is becoming too soft.
While the attraction of the hole was intensely beckoning, Phurt had been appointed by a strange twist of fate to the guard of the prisoners by the Old Mother.Bugger Narani whisspered Phurt, why not just kill them, these stupid two-legged animals. Why the pain of keeping them alive? Good thing the daily dose of sedative venom had them quiet now. They would only scare the mooing preys. Stupid, stupid.
Of course, it would be easy to just sink a little more than usual her sharp tooth into their neck so fragile. A regrettable accident…
Phurt couldn’t help but smile a grin as wide as her hairy eight-eyed face. But she wasn’t known as the Doctor of Breath for nothing. Her mere breath could be as sweet as a jasmine scent or terribly deadly. She had never missed a target, never could have.
She was no mere Spinner; how could the Mother have put her to such a slighting task. Degrading. For her, the most promising Hunter of her generation to be doing this while they all were securing the hole perimeter.She would have to go. Something was nudging her to move, something like a fluid water sound, that whispered that nothing could happen to those prisoners. No one would be fool enough to dare to enter the Nest.
Ahaha, why would she care? Nobody would know. And the little ones would alert her in any case.With a prodigious jump, she sprung to the forest in the direction of the hole. She couldn’t be denied her destiny.
— Is it gone now? a voice whispered under a pile of giant ferns
— I think it is growled Araili’s voice Thanks to the Snoot’s power of suggestion, I suppose… The Snoot might find spiders eggs delicacy enough to help us in our rescue operation.
— Shall we go there now? Kay? Ready to go and report back if everything’s clear?
— Ready.Rafaela was not finding it very difficult to jump on the rocky slopes. It was only difficult for her to remember to stay physically focused so that Anita wouldn’t fall to a certain death. And of course, even more difficult to resist to the attraction of nibbling a few crunchy thistles and brambles that grew here and there.
But Yuki’s attention was here to remind her, and so far, their progression had been smooth and easy.But all of a sudden, the small pink nose of Yuki raised in quicker spasms sniffing the air intently.
— What? What? asked Rafaela who almost forgot her focusing. What?! Did I fart or something?Anu who was having the time of her life jumping on the coarse back of the goat giggled at her clueless question.
— I think the spiders are moving too. We’ll be reaching the hole before them, and the Snoot tells me they won’t be moving close to it. But they won’t let anything or anyone get out of it. Let’s hope dear Armelle will spot a path for our friends.
— Not to worry, Rafaela said matter-of-factly, Army is good at spoohtting. She’s the best I know at that.
— OK, let’s move on…Claude was finally seeing a pinhole of light, at a close distance. He could just continue to crawl out his way to the light, and he would soon be release. And to cheer him up, he reminded himself that no man nor beast he feared, with his phenomenal strength agility and speed he now had. Too bad he didn’t have any time to get a proper super-hero attire he smiled to himself.
On Tikfijikoo, the Magpie’s energy maze-cloak was now lift. The fury of the cyclone was now in its full power, and the Magpies were starting their swift deployment.
The item was left unguarded in the operation room, as far as they could tell, and in the chaos of the elements, surely a few magpies would be unnoticed.They had to move quick now. The portal would be opened soon too. They couldn’t come back without bringing “it” back with them.
May 13, 2008 at 11:13 am #872In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
His door was open. He had his back to her, looking out at the storm. Veranassessee knocked lightly on the door and entered. He turned towards her.
You’re wet Agent V, he said, his eyes running slowly up and down her body.
His gaze came back to her face and their eyes locked. She felt her knees go weak. God does that really happen?
Why had nothing changed? She had not seen him for so long, had almost forgotten about him. She loved Mahiliki… didn’t she? She had managed to convince herself that Agent Gabriele was in the past. That was where he belonged. He was a fantasy.
She was not a child anymore.
God, but he was gorgeous though. Dark, sexy, he gave off an aura of untamed passion just barely suppressed below the surface. His face was more mature, more closed off than before, but still almost unbelievably handsome. At one time she had known every line of his face, memorized it, retraced it over and over in her imagination. She thought she had known him.
He smiled. Better get you out of those wet clothes, you’re dripping on the carpet.
Still holding his gaze, almost defiantly she pulled her dress off and let it drop in a soggy heap on the ground.
She wanted this didn’t she? She turned and closed the door behind them.
May 12, 2008 at 10:21 pm #869In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Malvina became aware of Irtak’s return when she felt his mossy green energy, his attention was here again and he would be here in a few minutes. The twins’ energy was more erratic, their attention fluctuating swiftly as usual, they were here and there and though they weren’t… a feeling of accomplishment was accompanying their return, so she knew that it had been done… and… oh! (Alienor’s Oh…) they also left a surprise
In her periphery, she sent the news to Leormn who was already aware of it of course, a dragon was always aware… how could she forget that?
Cutting short, she opened herself to her friends, to inform them they would depart soon, and she was requesting their help. They could prepare the jump before the young lad returned.
Using Leormn’s skill, she reshaped the main room of the cave, cleaned it a bit too, and added some fountain at the entrance with a stream flowing from it to the inside of the cave. A glob of light on top of it was creating a soothing atmosphere.Georges and Salome were drawing some runes at the entrance of the cave, some of them learned in another dimension, blended with some tiles of their own. They would be used to focus the group energies to the desired time and place.
Malvina began playing a melody on her wooden harp, feeling more strongly Irtak’s energy.
They would be ready to leave.May 10, 2008 at 10:18 pm #858In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sam looked puzzled at the flurry of new comments that had appeared like a cluster of ripe “groiselles”.
Having been plugged on the Reality Play Channel, he had been enjoying the activity like a buzzing hive of frantic bees in the background, but decided to get back to his forging of a Jedi light saber.
The recent didjeridoo adventures had given him some particular insights on how sounds could be manipulated to model matter, and he had decided to adapt a tutorial he had found on the network on how to craft a light saber from carton wraps and glowing sticks. Except that he would do it almost from scratch, starting with a jar of vegemoth…As for Al, as he couldn’t resist a peek, he started to wonder what this red currant frenzy was all about. He knew well enough “groseilles”, as his aunt would make delicious red currant jelly in the bayou. But “groiselles”, he checked quickly seemed to be an ancient variation of the word… How odd… Becky’s clue-sowing (a bit Cluseau-ing, indeed
) talent was really shining in her typos…
May 10, 2008 at 8:53 pm #855In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky waited anxiously for a reply from Luce and was quite weak with relief when a response came within the hour. It was short and sweet and simply said: Of course you can come and stay! What fun! Luce and Leah XX
Her cold forgotten, Becky booked a flight to Marseille for the early hours of the following morning, and sent Luce an email with the flight details. Next, she trotted into the bedroom and pulled a suitcase out from under the bed and hurriedly packed, wrapping the YouDo doll up in a sarong.
Now was the hard part, writing a note for Sean.
May 10, 2008 at 7:06 pm #854In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.
— That’s funny you say that, said Franiel recovering his marbles after a bit of an aghast moment. This name sounds oddly familiar… Is… he a talking parrot?
— Oh, yes of course, said Phoebe Chesterhope, though that’s not the least of its particularities she added with an eerie smile on her thin wrinkled mouth.
The others, you said she snapped back, her gaze suddenly sharp as a sword. I suppose you’ll meet them, unless you’ve got already.
— I’m not sure to know what you’re talking about, Milady said Franiel slightly perplexed.
— Oh well, I can see from the clothes you are wearing that you’re coming from a place of peace and sainthood. This place is a haven too, in many ways. This place has been kept as such since a few centuries, and I intend it to stay that way. Though the Others are devising ploys always more clever to have a hand on this place. For that, I know how to keep a keen eye on what’s happening, she said with a troubling wink to her parrot.
— The valley is surely a nice place, said Franiel not sure of what he should say.
— To the contrary. It’s full of marauders if you ask me, but for good reason. Uleÿa’s valley is a place not easily reached, and there are not many portals around here. No official ones at least… So in a sense, it’s an exchange of good will between me and them.Franiel was not sure he wanted to delve more into all this intricate political web of alliances and plots, no more than he wanted to be involved in religious beliefs and fanaticisms…
— I can see you are a little troubled, but you’ll find your place in all these events, assuredly, Phoebe said gently. But be certain that whenever you are wanting yourself out of them, you sure will find yourself right in the midst of them, without you even knowing it.
— I only want to be a good man, and do the least evil in this World, I suppose finally answered Franiel after an awkward moment.
— This, I am sure is true… You know, I’m a little bit of a witch, I mean, intuitive person, and I can pick up images from yourself. I’m not sure about some of them, but most of them are as clear as the waters of Uleÿa. Take your time to feel at home around here. Vincentius will answer you if you need anything, in any case better than Lydia or Derwent.
— But… I mean no offense here, dear Lady,… Vincentius is but a parrot, isn’t it?Phoebe sighed for a moment then took Franiel by the arm, so quickly and firmly he didn’t see it coming, and couldn’t move, hypnotised by the firm grip of the woman.
— Listen carefully, my friend. I can see you can be trusted, as much as your mind is thirsty for the truth, so I will tell you. Vincentius is no mere creature. He’s the result of a little experiment I had once with a former guest of mine. Another divine being, as pure and innocent as you, going by the same very name of this creature. I captured a spark of his radiant aura, and mixed it with an egg I had kept for the occasion. And so it was born. A perfect spy, as well as a faithful friend.
Franiel recoiled in horror… What have you done?!
— Oh, don’t be so dramatic, my young friend Phoebe said with a little giggle. No one has been harmed, and even if at times, there seem to be some side-effect when my former guest seems to see or speak through my parrot, it all has gone very well… And no, I don’t intend to do it to you… Don’t give me silly ideas, ahahah.
May 10, 2008 at 6:35 pm #852In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Leah Muir, born and bred in Glasgow in Scotland, first visited Marseille on a business trip. She was the personal assistant to the director of the “Twin City Exchange Programme”, Robin Abbott.
Leah fell in love with Marseille. Truth to tell, she fell in love with a racy fellow she met in the Café De l’Abbaye one tipsy afternoon, Enri Baccalao. Leah convinced her easy going boss to let her stay in Marseille for the rest of the exchange programme, and she moved into Enri’s apartment.
Enri was a gregarious and popular man, and his artistically shabby home was always full of people. Leah soon became great friends with a delightfully witty young woman of Italian and Burmese descent, Luce Mong.
May 10, 2008 at 4:03 pm #849In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Al had just inadvertently telepathically overheard Becky’s long monologue, and was rather amused at the situation that he decided to stay quiet and refrain from intervening.
It was a sort of interesting experience, to see how it would develop…A voice was starting to make itself heard through Becky’s neuronal pathways though… A feminine voice first… Then a male…
He could even sense a third presence too…Al was surprised, as he apparently didn’t really care about what kind of probability would express itself. It seemed it was all valid, and yet, there was something that wanted to make itself heard.
Becky was quiet now. She seemed to have finally seen that nothing would happen as intensely and quickly as in her swift imagination.
But Al was intrigued… Who were those presence, they felt lively, very humorous too. But they were concerned about Becky’s changes of mood. They were considering probabilities too, as though Becky’s choices were important to them.
— We are the first-borns of Becky answered the feminine voice who had keep still.
— Potential first sniggered the male voice.
— Oh, shut up, Oliver the third one said you know well enough we are creating our realities, so better give her some time… No need to freak her out… After all, it’s like for Dory’s nine dogs, they only came gradually, and she just accepted them…Dory? Al was wondering… He had heard that name recently… At the wedding party perhaps?
— Dory’s a past overlapping focus of Becky and her step-mother too… answered Léan, the quiet one.
Al was befuddled. He had first thought these voices were only Becky’s playing games with herself.
— Oh sure it was, answered Oliver, we’ve just be using that wave of thoughts to bring us through. It’s very multi-layered.
— See, take the dogs which Illana talked about right now. You know some of these dogs Dory had (or has, or will have), they have “flecks” of people close to Dory, other essences’ energies. Some are very clearly noticeable, other are more mingled. These voices are multiplexes of voices, more or less subtle energies being expressed. Some are very deep. We were riding the surface of them.So, Illana, Lean and Oliver? That’s it?… Nice to meet you… Al was still thinking aloud (like in big characters printed on a silent kaleidoscopic screen)
And that will be your focus names? Oh, yes… probable ones.
It’s funny you know, it’s like you are becoming more real now. I can feel some associations coming that help bring you into form. Like Oliver, I associate him with a black dog of Dory. A little grumpy one with funny black eyes.The two female laughters mingled into one delightful chorus. Ahaha, we will give you a point for accurate connection!
“And Léan,” Al continued, “you feel like a young blond woman, friend of Dory ready to get married… Yet, I can see you have a black complexion in this probable focus, unlike your siblings… Sounds a bit confusing…”
— Ahaha, another point!
“Let me see, Illana now… I got you connected with another friend of Dory… An paleontologist or geologist, living in the US, blond lively woman with painted nails, and… the image is just gone now…”
— Hehehe, that’s close enough, said Illana’s voice. I can see we’ll meet soon Al…
And the moment after, the wisps of light were gone.
May 9, 2008 at 11:59 am #841In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Jarvis was dozing in a dark corner of the kitchen. He was dreaming of bees, he had been assigned to the bee keeping a few weeks ago, just after the “incident”. He was one man the Dr could trust. In a previous life, he was keeping bees as a family business. But an accident with the bees led to his dismissal by his uncle. A regrettable accident, too much smoke, too much dead bees. Jarvis had been thinking of a sabotage, surely he had been framed but as he was thinking of quiting this poor paid job, it was also a perfect occasion.
He had been engaged as a security agent… sort of. He had to pretend to be a gardener and not awake suspicion among the others. The funny thing is that he had soon been contacted by another organization, and had been offered quite a good price. All he had to do was observe and dream. Unfortunately, the man, Claude, who had approached him was disguised as a patient… and he had disappeared after the “incident”. Since then Jarvis had been having strange dreams of mummies, magpies, there was even one with 3 eyes 2 nights ago
The light was turned on abruptly. Someone was arriving, still hidden by the tables and shelves.
With the sound of the heels on the tiled floor, that was a woman… or the Doctor.
A little twinge told him not to let him be noticed yet. He moved his head silently in a position from which he could see who it was.
Oh! that big athletic woman, Vasse.
Claude had told him about her. Jarvis had to be very cautious, because she was of another organization… anotherhe was calling her agent V. Well Jarvis wasn’t curious enough to ask any further detail, there were already too much to remember.
She was doing something with a little jar of a brown substance, and brought a spoon full at her mouth. Her sudden coughing and spitting almost made him fall off his chair. But hopefully with all the noise she hadn’t noticed. Mumbling, she was heading toward the fridge. Was she possibly aware of…
Yes! she was taking the plate with the honeycomb… he’d have to move quickly.
As she was considering the modified honeycomb, he realized that she was about to eat it. So she didn’t know.He had to warn her.
— I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V…
May 9, 2008 at 11:51 am #840In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
— You have summoned us, Master Tfark
— Yes, young PiawanThe magpie known as Robert X was standing in front of a glowing bluish light emitted by a glass ball full of sand nearly as big as the gnome standing before it.
Inside the ball, one could distinguish a century-old-looking figure, so fat it was almost indiscernible from the pile of cushions on which he was seated in a lotus-like posture. On the forehead of the Master, a third eye was visible, its gaze piercing you through your flesh.— How is our matter proceeding, Hex?
— Well enough, Master. All preliminary stakeout has taken place according to the plans. We are only waiting for the right conditions to strike and rob the item without being noticed.
— Very well, Hex…The three-eyed Master Tfark scratched his chin pensively.
— A convenient surge of atmospheric energy is coming your way, I suppose you are aware. I hope that you’ll make good use of this. Our clients are very eager to get this item back
— Yes, Master. You shall not be disappointed.And with that, the communication was ended.
Robert X stood in front of the now inert communication device, visibly preoccupied.
— Sir, you didn’t mention the disappearance of our guest, did you? asked Robert K
— There is nothing yet to report. Let’s do the job and we can quickly leave this place. Next inter-dimensional window will be opened a few moments after the cyclone, that should work out perfectly.
— Sir, yes Sir. Ready to lift the energy cloak as soon as we are ready to strike.
— Perfect then… Remember, without the energy cloak, we’ll have to solely rely on our magpies shifted appearances.
— I know that Sir, this is not my first mission, Sir.
— Very well then. Is there something else?
— There is another thing, Sir.
— What?!
— Some trouble with the bee-keeper I fear -
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